


Something New

by KayLingLing7



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Porn With Plot, Post-Canon, Roommates, Smut, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 11:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9437237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KayLingLing7/pseuds/KayLingLing7
Summary: Living with Kenma is nothing like Tetsurou expected it to be. Cleaning up after him, cooking dinner for two - small domestic daily rituals that make his chest feel warm.The small changes between them, from sitting close on the couch to Kenma sitting in his lap, to Kenma kissing him hello.It's all new, it's all different, but it feels right.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading basically everything by [shions_heart](http://archiveofourown.org/users/shions_heart), and it just inspired me to want to write my own KuroKen fic. 
> 
> If you like really domestic shit, overly emotional smut and cheesey endings this is the fic for you.

_And I know_  
_I'm not afraid to call this home_  
_And I know_  
_That you aren't too_  
  
You and Your Crown by Matthew Mole

\---

Living with Kenma, Tetsurou finds, is nothing like he expected it to be.

For one thing, they’re both very different in how organised they are. Tetsurou is... Not organised. At all. His desk is 10% laptop and 90% paper and books stacked haphazardly, half of them ending up on the floor and staying on the floor. He leaves clothing all over the place – clean clothes on his desk chair or the foot of his bed, or crumbled unceremoniously on top of the shoes in his cupboard; his dirty clothes left on his bedroom floor... and the bathroom floor... and in the sitting room. His mess doesn’t stay confined to his bedroom, ever.

But – Tetsurou does the dishes twice a day, collects his dirty clothes to do laundry twice a week, and hangs them up to dry across the wall in the sitting room so he doesn’t have to deal with mildew. He throws out food that’s gone past its expiry date, organises his recyclables, and takes the trash out the night before the garbage men come to collect it. He’s disorganised, yes, but he’s _clean_.

Kenma, on the other hand – Kenma is organised. Kenma gets home from school every day and leaves his shoes in the corner, neatly set next to each other, and hangs his backpack and coat on hooks by the door. His notes are kept in files, his books kept on a shelf in Alphabetical order, by subject. His clean clothes are in his cupboard in a specific order, and his dirty clothes are always put in the washing basket.

But... he doesn’t have the urge to keep things clean the way Tetsurou does. He leaves dishes in his bedroom for days, doesn’t actually do laundry when his washing basket is full, would live on two-minute ramen just so he wouldn’t have to deal with eating food by the expiry date if he lived alone. He avoids showers for long periods of time until Tetsurou has to pick him up and drag him to the bathroom, take his 3DS away, and force him into the shower and into a clean pair of pyjamas.

So, Tetsurou does the chores ad collects the dishes from Kenma’s room, washes the bathroom and bath tub, does the laundry for both of them. He doesn’t really mind – he lived with Bokuto last year while Kenma was still in high school, and at least Kenma doesn’t break things as often as Bokuto used to – and in a way he likes looking after Kenma. He’s been looking after Kenma since they were kids, and that feeling of protectiveness has never gone away.

He also likes the domesticity of it. He’s a sap, he knows he is, but he likes washing his and Kenma’s clothes in the same load, and forcing Kenma to come out and buy groceries with him, and making meals that they share. He likes when Kenma wakes him up in the morning because his alarm has gone off four times already and he he’s going to be late to class, and he likes picking Kenma up when he’s fallen asleep on the couch playing video games and tucking him into bed, watching him mumble and frown before turning over to sleep.

And, more than anything, Tetsurou likes the way their relationship has slowly started to change. As best friends in high school it was normal for them to sit really close to each other, for Tetsurou to put his head in Kenma’s lap, or for Kenma to lean against Tetsurou’s shoulder. But lately they’ve progressed to being more intimate, more affectionate. They cuddle closer on the couch, Tetsurou plays with Kenma’s hair while he’s studying, Kenma crawls into Tetsurou’s lap sometimes after a long day of lectures and just sits with his forehead pressed against Tetsurou’s shoulder, and Tetsurou slowly rubbing his back as he watches bad sitcom reruns.

It makes Tetsurou’s heart beat just a little bit faster, his smile grow just a little bit bigger. It’s nice. It’s new.

* * *

One day, around the end of their first semester living together, Kenma comes home late after a long day of lectures. He looks exhausted, doesn’t even have enough energy to have his phone out, and slowly goes about taking his shoes off and leaving them in their spot in the corner before he’s moves directly towards Tetsurou on the couch.

Tetsurou anticipates his arrival, uncrossing his legs and sitting back comfortably. “Hey, how was your day?” he asks, using his soft Kenma Is Drained And Needs Quiet Time voice. Kenma just grunts in reply as he climbs onto the couch and onto Tetsurou’s lap, nestling in against Tetsurou’s chest.

Tetsurou’s hands immediately go to Kenma’s back, rubbing soothing circles into him. It’s a warm day, and being so close to another person should be uncomfortable, but it’s not when it’s Kenma.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Tetsurou asks after a while, bringing a hand up to brush Kenma’s hair behind his ear. Kenma grunts again, his hands clenching into Tetsurou’s shirt as he burrows himself further into Tetsurou’s chest. Tetsurou takes that as a no.

Tetsurou watches TV over Kenma’s head for a while, brushing his hands up and down Kenma’s back, until, eventually, Kenma lifted his head. Tetsurou’s attention is immediately pulled to him, looking down at the boy in his lap with a soft smile.

“Feeling better now?”

Kenma hums before leaning up slightly on his knees and pressing a soft kiss to Tetsurou’s lips. “Thank you.” He says quietly, face close to Tetsurou’s, before he moves off Tetsurou’s lap, walking towards the kitchen.

Tetsurou watches him leave in shock.

This is not something that have done before. They haven’t kissed. They don’t kiss. That’s not – that isn’t –

Tetsurou feels like his brain is going to leak out of his ears.

He stares in the direction of the kitchen for a while, his mind both abuzz with questions and a ringing silence. He wants to ask Kenma what that kiss meant, but when Kenma comes out of the kitchen with a peanut butter sandwich and curls up the crook of Tetsurou’s arm, he can’t find it in himself to ask. Instead he says, “You know I made you supper, right? It was in the fridge.”

Kenma just shrugs, “I’ll eat it later,” and asks Tetsurou to change the channel. Tetsurou does as he’s asked.

* * *

Things keep progressing slowly from there. When Kenma goes to bed before Tetsurou he kisses his cheek, a small peck near his jaw, and Tetsurou has slowly started reciprocating, kissing Kenma on the forehead if he goes to bed first, or when he leaves for class. Sometimes he just does it when he feels like it, when he’s placing a plate of food in front of Kenma or has gone into his room to look for any dirty dishes. Kenma grumbles sometimes, but the light tint of a blush over his cheeks is worth it.

When they go out to buy groceries, and Kenma stares at his phone playing Pokemon Go or any number of other mobile games he has invested time in, instead of steering him around by the shoulder like he used to, Tetsurou now holds his hand instead. The first few times he did this was a little embarrassing, and he had to will his hands not to sweat, but after a while grocery shopping became one of his favourite things, being able to walk around the store with his hand interlaced with Kenma’s as they bought supplies for their meals together.

Of course, they never talk about any of this. They don’t have any conversations involving ‘what are we’, no confessions of love or proposals of dating. It bothers Tetsurou at first, wondering what he is and isn’t allowed to do with Kenma, what he should call this, but eventually he lets it slide, falls into the comfort of being with Kenma, just accepting it as a natural progression of being friends with Kenma.

It just feels like this is how it was always meant to happen.

* * *

It’s a Friday night in early December and Tetsurou’s sitting on the couch watching sitcoms again (he swears it’s not the only thing he does, it’s just what he likes to do to distress after homework). Kenma has been in his room for the past hour or more, either working on an essay or playing some dating sim on his laptop, and Tetsurou is almost ready to retreat to his own room for the night when he hears Kenma’s door creek softly open.

Out of habit he sits up straighter and uncrosses his legs, getting comfortable in case Kenma wants to sit on his lap. He glances up as Kenma comes around the side of the couch into view – and then freezes.

Kenma is wearing one of Tetsurou’s sweaters, a light grey turtle neck with baggy sleeves that is big even on Tetsurou’s frame, so on Kenma it looks massive, the sleeves falling over his hands and half way down his thighs. There’s also the fact that he’s not wearing any pants – he’s developed the habit of wondering around the house with only his boxers on, much to Tetsurou’s chagrin and delight – and the way his pale thighs peek out from under the hem of the sweater is captivating in a way it maybe shouldn’t be.

Tetsurou gulps.

“Hey,” he says weakly, as Kenma crawls onto the couch and into his lap. His thighs are warm where they bracket his legs. “Did you finish your essay?”

Kenma shakes his head, putting his arms around Tetsurou’s neck. His mouth is only inches away from Tetsurou’s when he speaks. “Wasn’t writing my essay. I was playing a game.”

“O-oh? That, uh, dating sim?” Tetsurou asks, swallowing again, his eyes drawn to Kenma’s lips as he hums a confirmation in response. He then licks his lips, leaving them wet and glossy, before he leans forwards.

They’ve shared kisses on cheeks and foreheads before, on noses and necks and the corner of mouths, maybe a peck on the lips once or twice. But this is new. Kenma’s lips are soft and pliant over his own, and Tetsurou finds himself reciprocating even before he’s over the shock of it, his hands moving to grip Kenma’s hips over his sweater. Kenma sighs into him, his arms going over Tetsurou’s shoulders, hands moving to tangle in the mess of hair, lips moving steadily until Tetsurou feels a small kitten lick over his bottom lip, followed by another, more demanding press of tongue. He responds in the only way he knows how, opening his mouth to let Kenma in, feeling his tongue move into his mouth and press against his own.

Tetsurou moans into the kiss, his hands pressing into Kenma’s hips, dragging him closer. Kenma moans in response, the kiss hard and demanding as his hips gyrate down into Tetsurou and – fuck – Tetsurou can feel him, half hard, under that sweater.

Tetsurou pulls back from the kiss with a gasp. “Kenma,” he exhales, staring at him in awe and a little bit of confusion. Was this really happening? Where did this come from?

Kenma just started back at him, dazed, large yellow eyes bright and half lidded. His lips are plump and wet, his cheeks flushed a light pink. “Kuro,” he says, breathes out like a sigh, “’want you.”

Tetsurou stares at him for half a second more before lurching forward, capturing Kenma’s lips without any finesse, the words _want you_ playing over and over in his head.

Kenma accepts the kiss eagerly, his hands clenching in Tetsurou’s hair again. It’s hot and heavy and needy, months – maybe years – of repressed feeling pouring out, silent, between them.

Tetsurou pulls Kenma closer to him, and when Kenma ruts down and presses his half-on against Tetsurou’s stomach Tetsurou only moans into his mouth, pushing back. His hands move from Kenma’s hips, moving back and over the swell of his ass. How often has he thought about touching that ass?

Tetsurou moves to touch Kenma’s ass under the sweater and is shocked when, instead of the feeling of tight boxer-briefs, he’s met only with skin. Kenma gaps for air, moving to kiss along Tetsurou’s jaw. Tetsurou lets him, moving his chin up to give him easy access.

“Kenma,” Tetsurou gasps, hands clenching into the meat of Kenma’s ass cheeks, his hips jumping up to meet one of Kenma’s thrusts. “ _Kenma_. You’re not wearing _underwear_.”

Kenma hums over the bruise he’s currently sucking into Tetsurou’s neck, breaking off with a wet popping noise. “Took them off before I left my room,” he gasps into Tetsurou’s neck, “the extra layer would have been bothersome.”

“Always so practical.” Tetsurou smiles, running his hands up over the small of Kenma’s back and back down to his ass.

Kenma arches his back into Tetsurou’s touches, before pouting, putting his hands on either side of Tetsurou’s face and leaning in close. “Less talking, more kissing. And groping.”

“Yes sir,” Tetsurou replies as Kenma leans in close, and he’s still smiling as they move into a kiss. He pauses for a moment before slowly moving a hand around from Kenma’s ass, over his hip, and, tentatively, takes a hold of Kenma’s cock in a loose grip.

The high whine that emits from Kenma goes straight to Tetsurou’s dick.

He’s still wearing sweatpants, and while they’re loose, he wants – needs – to take them off, _now_.

He tugs at Kenma’s cock once, twice, before he breaks the kiss. Kenma groans in protest, but Tetsurou ignores him, moving to push his pants off. Kenma seems to catch the drift after a moment and sits up on his knees so Tetsurou can slide his pants down to his knees.

“Kuro,” Kenma sighs, resting his weight back onto Tetsurou’s thighs. He moves close, until his cock is right over Tetsurou’s own dripping hard-on, and brings a hand down from Tetsurou’s shoulder to touch them both.

Tetsurou gasps at the contact, his head falling forwards to press his forehead against Kenma’s so he can watch. Kenma’s small hand on Tetsurou’s cock, the sight of Kenma’s dick, hard and dripping right next to his own - their dicks _touching_ \- is too much for Tetsurou. He groans, hips bucking up, his own hands digging into Kenma’s sides and pulling him as close as he can, thrusting their cocks against each other.

Kenma groans, his hand clenching around them, jerking them both off with quick strokes that feel like magic to Tetsurou. He can’t stop gasping out air, little praises of, “Kenma. _Kenma_. Don’t stop, that feels so fucking good, _fuck_.”

It’s not surprising that Tetsurou is the vocal one, that Kenma is quiet except for the heady gasp of his breath, the small intakes and soft whines. _He’s so gorgeous_ , Tetsurou thinks, as he moves so he can see Kenma’s face. His cheeks are flushed red, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his lips red and pouty and beautiful, his eyes focused intently on his hand on their dicks. And then, as if feeling Tetsurou’s gaze on him, he lifts his eyes, his pupils dilated huge with small slivers of gold around them and that’s – it.

Tetsurou comes between them with a sharp intake of breath.

His eyes are closed as he recovers from his climax, breathing hard, but he can feel Kenma move against him, can feel him letting go of his cock to fist a hand into his shirt. He opens his eyes to watch as Kenma pulls Tetsurou’s shirt up to his pecks, moving forward so he can rut his cock against Tetsurou’s abs. He watches, stunned, as Kenma presses his cock between his hand and the hard muscles of Tetsurou’s stomach, pushing his hips up against him, and can almost feel his cock hardening again at the sight of it, how erotic it is to have his body just being _used_ by Kenma to get himself off.

He listens to Kenma’s heavy breathing get shallower and faster, feels his forehead pressed against his own, and gets to watch, transfixed, as Kenma’s muscles freeze and spasm as he orgasms, cum shooting out in thick white streams over Tetsurou’s chest.

Kenma sags on top of Tetsurou, gasping for breath. Tetsurou puts his arms around his back, moving in soothing circles, waiting until Kenma’s breathing has calmed down before he moves to press a kiss to the side of his head.

“So,” he says, using a soft voice but aware of the amusement in it, “that was new.”

“We didn’t have sex though,” Kenma says after a second, the pout heard in his tone.

Tetsurou frowns. “What? We just did?”

“No, I mean,” Kenma sighs, pulling himself up to look Tetsurou in the face. “I mean like all the way. I even brought that with me.” He gestures sideways, and Tetsurou looks down to the couch next to them where a small bottle of lube and a condom foil are lying beside them. His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

“Where did those come from?” he asks, incredulous, looking back at Kenma.

Kenma diverts his eyes, a blush coming back over his cheeks. “I brought them from my room.”

Tetsurou’s eyebrows rise even higher. “Really? Did you buy them yourself?”

Kenma’s blush grows even darker. “I asked Shouyou to ask Tobio to buy them.”

Tetsurou stares at him for a long, stunned second of silence before he falls forwards laughing, hugging Kenma close to him and he howls into Kenma’s shoulder. Kenma tries to escape his hold half-heartedly, complaining about drying cum and swatting at Tetsurou’s head, but he holds on, persistent, until his laughter trails into the rise and fall of his shoulders in silent laughter.

“Fuck, you’re adorable, Kenma,” Tetsurou says finally, leaning forwards to press a wet kiss to Kenma’s cheek. “But next time we go grocery shopping I’ll buy a bigger container of lube for us.”

Kenma’s eyes go wide, his face still flushed from Tetsurou laughing at him. “We can’t buy lube and condoms while holding hands!”

“Why not?” Tetsurou asks, peppering more kisses onto Kenma’s face – now he’s started, he can’t stop. “You won’t even be looking up from your phone, it’s fine.”

Kenma pouts. “You’re so annoying.”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou smiles crookedly, “you love me, though.”

Kenma’s expression softens, finally bringing his eyes back to Tetsurou, a small smile on his face. “Yeah,” he says, softly, “I do.”

Tetsurou’s heart flutters in his chest, smiling at Kenma like an idiot for a long moment until he moves forwards, slowly, to capture his mouth in a kiss. It’s warm and slow, Kenma’s hands coming up to press against either side of Tetsurou’s face, and Tetsurou can’t think of another time in his life he has ever felt so safe and happy and warm than right that moment.

They break apart, Tetsurou still smiling, and decide to get up and clean themselves off for bed. Tetsurou carries Kenma to the bathroom with very little protest, and once they’re both clean Tetsurou kisses Kenma’s cheek and heads to his room.

Tetsurou settles into his bed, fluffing up his pillows and setting his phone to charge, but his chest feels hollow. He frowns, and is just deciding to go sneak into Kenma’s room when his door opens. Kenma walks in, still wearing the grey sweater, which miraculously did not get any body fluids on it (unlike Tetsurou’s own shirt, which had to go straight into the wash). He has his cellphone and charger in his hand, and immediately goes to plug it in next to Tetsurou’s phone before he crawls into the bed on top of Tetsurou.

Tetsurou smiles, turning them on their sides and putting his hands on Kenma’s back, snuggling his face into Kenma’s hair for a moment. He breathes in the scent of him, before moving to switch the light off. He snuggles back into bed then, Kenma in his arms and warm against him.

They’ve never done this before, haven’t shared a bed with each other since elementary school, let alone chest-to-chest cuddling in a bed that is way too small two young adults. But, like every new thing they’ve done together in the past year as roommates – the washing up after him, cooking supper for them both, holding hands in the grocery store, fooling around on the couch like they had been mere minutes ago – Tetsurou knows that he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out my [Tumblr](http://smutindevelopment.tumblr.com/) for my art and other writing stuff!


End file.
